Here we go! Now this is for two challenge- The Seven Kisses Challenge (self explanatory) and Round Four of the Speed of Lightning Competition (where I had to write 6,000 words in 3 days). Obviously this will mean the updates will be quick. Currently I have everything written as drafts I just need to edit.

As suggested, this story will feature seven kisses given or received by Tom/Voldemort. For some hints about what to come; six will be wanted and one will be forced, six could fit into canon and one is AU, four are on the lips and three are somewhere else and three are with OCs related to canon characters and four are canon characters. Please be aware that this is written from Tom's pov so there are views related to the time (40s, 50s, etc) and some hints at some misogynist views which are all related to how he would think and not how I would. As well, it does include some OCs, but that is because we only know a limited number of people from his time.

Also a lot of this is based on the idea that Tom/Voldemort may be a cruel and inhuman monster, but I strongly believe this does not mean he went through life as having never kissed anyone. While I can understand him being written as asexual, my Voldemort is a heterosexual man.

Enjoy


Tom had always known he was unique. He was always told that as baby he never cried. Then, as he grew, he was the queer boy who always seemed to want to want to be left alone. Of course, he soon developed to discover he had phenomenal gifts which he later learned made him a wizard.

The knowledge made it even clearer he was greater than any of the muggle orphans around him.

After he had been told he was a wizard, there was some original doubt and fear that it might mean he was like everyone else. Perhaps if he was just another wizard, he might be forced to blend into the background.

One week at Hogwarts was enough to prove that was not the case.

His magic was far beyond any of the other first years. The teachers were staggered that he had such a high level of natural skill and all assumed he must have been taught by someone. More than that, after he had been overhead speaking Parseltongue to by some of his fellow Slytherins, it was revealed how unique his gifts really were.

That was not all. The more he grew, the more he realised how special he was and how superior he was to everyone else.

It was very apparent as he strode down the dirt road to Hogsmeade, with his chin high, his eyes firm, but his lips curled up into a well crafted smile which made his handsome face even more attractive. He was not silly and, as he aged, the female admirers multiplied. He could cast one a smile and her cheeks would instantly flame red.

The other difference was he had brains. The boys he surrounded himself with were tolerable, but they were weak and their brains disappeared at the most inappropriate moments; often girls were the cause. He was attracted to a pretty girl as much as any of them, yet he did not lose his head. There was Nott who managed to blush and fumble whenever one was around. Lestrange would try to be composed, but he would always say the wrong thing. Rosier was the most affective, but he would always force his luck trying for a kiss or something more when it was completely inappropriate for a pureblood lady.

It was all a matter of knowing the right ways to behave at the right times.

Tilting his head to the side as he entered the snow covered and attractive village of Hogsmeade, he smiled to Lydia Gamp who had her gloved arm wrapped around the arm he had offered her back at the castle. "It is very beautiful," he said softly in conversation as his eyes flicked over the building and bustling crowds. "Quite a lovely sight."

"It is," she murmured in agreement, though he noticed her eyes focused more on his face than on the village. "My parents never wanted to take my sister and I all the way up here."

"It is a long way," he agreed as he led her through the streets, his mind flittering over buildings as he decided where to go without any input from the woman on his arm. "I have never been here before either."

"But now we finally have the chance."

"With company who is lovelier than I could ever have predicted," he complimented with a smile and with clear knowledge about the impact of his actions.

He was correct. Her pale face flushed at his words as her other gloved hand held her face lightly. "Tom," she moaned quietly having no other answer.

It was so simple. It was just a matter of choosing your times, your words, your behaviour and only determining your choice by what was intelligent. In that exchange, he could have informed her that he had lived in a muggle orphanage all his life, so had no chance of visiting all wizarding village or that the reason he found the village so lovely was because it was a relief to be outside in a place away from London and the threat of Nazi bombs.

But there was no reason to say any of these things, so he lied and silently led her away from the High Street. He had other thoughts on his mind.

"I thought about seeing the outskirts of the village first and then making our way back," he continued in a way which she would no doubt assume was him saving her from her mirth. "Only if you would like to, of course."

"I would love to," she replied as she tried to pull back her composure. He knew she would agree. It was the only reason he had asked.

The path from the main village led them off the High Street where it stopped and so did all of the houses and shops only giving way to the lush countryside and mountains. At the end of the street, he stepped off it and walked so they were behind the houses and blocked from the view of everyone else.

"I hope you know Lydia that I am very happy I could be here with you," Tom said gently looking directly into her eyes as he slid his arm out from hers and gently cupped her delicate gloved hand. "There is no one else I would rather be with."

Predictably, she flushed again. "I feel the same way," she gushed, her emerald eyes alive and shining.

For the briefest moment Tom paused confronted by the gap between them that was larger than he had predicted in his plans. It seemed awfully difficult to close that space. He had heard tales of stolen kisses and most certainly his attraction to woman was such that he was thinking about kissing and more, but to make that final step was difficult.

Still he steeled himself.

With his spare hand, he lifted it to her face and carefully brushed a lock of her chestnut hair from her eyes. He felt her shudder pleasantly and it was all the chance he needed before he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. Tom loathed being ignorant and he was unsure what to do as he was faced with only instinct to guide him as he tentatively moved his lips against her own.

It was only for a short moment before he controlled himself and withdrew his lips, his heart race pulsing at an unusual pace.

He allowed himself a genuine smile to pass over his lips.

It was not directed at her, only the feeling. Any woman would have worked, but she did not need to know that. He was only concerned with how he could next get what he wanted.